Operation Christmas
by sailorraven34
Summary: Pietor's all set for a quiet evening with his sister when he discovers she has other plans. After failing to forcibly detain her, he instead decides to gather his allies (i.e., an eleven year old with psychopathic tendencies determined to murder said sister) and set off on what will either be the greatest feat of espionage in his career or very, very hilarious.
1. A Story For Another Time

**I will be the one who is laughing in the end! Because I'm in a sailor suit **** this is my conclusion. **

**-Lucky Star**

**First bit's been taken directly from Escape Velocity. The rest is all me. I always assume that 1) Pietor is older than Anastasia, and 2) there's quite an age gap between the pair, so he's also a substitute father to her. Anyway, this'll probably be a couple of chapters long at least.**

"We've had good teachers," Otto said with a smile, "and you've got to take the training wheels off sooner or later."

"If it's any consolation I was almost exactly the same ages as you when I was given my first operation," Raven said.

"And how did that go?" Otto asked, curious to learn more of Raven's mysterious past.

"It was a complete disaster." She absentmindedly traced a finger down the long scar that ran across her cheek. "But in a funny way it was a good thing that it went as badly as it did."

"What happened?" Otto asked, his curiosity now thoroughly piqued.

Raven smiled mysteriously. "That's a story for another time…"

**December 24****th****, 1997- A castle in Siberia. Probably, the only castle in Siberia but I don't actually know that for sure, so…**

"Anabanana?" Pietor called, opening his sister door. "I have alcohol! And a present for you- what have you got on your head?"

"It's a Santa hat." Anastasia told him.

"Well that's… festive of you." Furan said with a frown. "What's _that_?"

"It's a dress." Anastasia said, applying lipstick. "You know. Girls wear them sometimes when they want to feel pretty. You wore one when you were three and I keep the picture on my computer to I have something to distract me when I'm bored to death at a meeting."

"Why have you got a dress?" Furan said. "Somehow I doubt it's for _my_ benefit…"

"I am going on a date." Anastasia said briskly.

"A date?"

"A Christmas date. It's romantic. Not that _you_ would understand that."

"You can't go on a date." Pietor scoffed.

"Yes I can." Anastasia informed him, drawing herself up to her full height. "And I have a present for you, too. It's more of a concept really- it's called 'I'm Not Six Years Old Any More.'"

"You're still my little sister! And as your brother, I am forbidding you to go on any sort of- what the _hell_ is this?" Pietor demanded, holding up the offending object with a fixed expression of annoyance and exasperation, the one Anastasia knew as the 'dear god I don't understand, my poor brain has exploded but just make her _stop'_ look.

"It's_ underwear._" Anastasia said, exasperated.

"Underwear?" Pietor demanded. "This is just a piece of lace with some string holding the… _lacey bits_ together!"

"Pietor, leave me alone..." Anastasia grunted.

"No! _No!_" Pietor yelled. "I am-"

"What's going on?" asked a small voice as a head poked into the doorway.

Furan scowled. Any good feelings he had towards Natalya had vanished after her little kiss-and-steal-his-stuff stunt. Also, the fact that she had half-blinded him may have been a contributing factor, though the kiss still stood as her most annoying moment yet. **(See the Sweet Taste of Victory for further details)** "Go away, Raven."

The girl scowled before padding silently into the room. Her stance was militaristic even in pajamas. "Sir."

"What is it?" Furan said coldly.

"You appear to have a breach in security, sir." she said, and then removed a gun from the small pocket in her top and pointed it at her sister's head.

"Pietor." Anastasia said, not even bothering to look up from her makeup bag.

Pietor was behind the small girl in a second, plucking the gun from her fingers and pinning her hands behind her back. "Sloppy." he hissed in her ear.

"Happy Christmas." Natalya said quietly.

"You too." Furan grunted, pushing her to the floor and planting his foot on her back.

"There. You can have Raven for company." Anastasia stood up, grabbing the underwear from Pietor's hand and undoing her bathrobe. "The two of you can snuggle, or whatever it is you do." She smiled wryly as she began to dress.

Furan reached out to grab his sister's arm. "For the last time, it's not like that. She can't sleep without someone to hold her, and I can't _train_ her when she's exhausted. And if I can't train her, you can't use her on your little revenge mission. It has nothing to do with my personal feelings. And YOU STILL AREN'T GOING ANYWHERE!"

"Buh-bye, Petya." Anastasia wrenched her arm from his grasp as she zipped up her dress. She waved jauntily over her shoulder before closing and locking the door behind her.

Pietor sighed.

He flung the gun away and released Natalya, who instantly dove for the weapon. He grabbed her by the collar and pulled her up, enough so that her toes were just barely brushing the floor. She made a squeaking noise, clawing at her neck.

"The solitary eleven year old avenger." Furan said. "I bet it gets lonely."

He dropped her to the floor and she scrambled to her feet, sinking into a fighting stance.

"I don't have time for that right now." He said, rolling his eyes… eye. "Get some clothes on- we're going after Anastasia."


	2. Parenting (You're Doing It Wrong, Furan)

"**Oh, do your research. I'm not a hero- I'm a high functioning sociopath. Merry Christmas."**

**-Sherlock**

**I may have to work that into this story somehow…**

**Anyway, I drew the cover. Raven's getting dragged along by Furan… which seems to be the theme for this story. And hey, little Raven in a Santa hat. I think that might be the pinnacle of adorableness right there.**

Pietor stared at the tiny screen on his mobile phone, very confused. Was the blinking dot Anastasia? Or was it him? Technology was so confusing-

"Can I have a present?" piped a small voice from somewhere around his elbow.

"What?" Pietor snapped. "No. Why would I give you a present?"

"It's Christmas." Natalya said. "Don't you get presents on Christmas?"

"_You _don't." Pietor said, giving her a look that meant 'keep your adorable-little-kid cooties where they can't reach me, brat'.

"Can I have a thing to eat, then?" Natalya asked, clearly missing the message. She was wearing one of Elena's old dresses and it made her look very adorable, a fact he was greatly trying to ignore.

He sighed and shoved some money into her palm. "Go buy yourself something. If you aren't back in ten minutes I'll assume you're trying to escape and put a bullet through your brain. Understood?"

She nodded.

###

Maximillian Nero was _freezing_. He drew his coat closer around himself and shoved his hands deeper in the pockets, trying to conserve body heat. He was on edge because he could have _sworn_ he had seen Anastasia Furan a few minutes earlier, wearing a dark purple dress that made her look-

Something small and moving very quickly darted past his leg, nearly knocking him over. He glanced down to see the culprit, a young girl, execute what was truly the greatest face-plant he had ever beheld. He winced, anticipating the high-pitched shrieks. But instead the girl picked herself up off the pavement calmly and deliberately and began to examine her skinned knees and elbows in a way that clearly suggested medical training.

He found himself crouching beside her. "Are you all right?" he asked, holding out a hand to help her up.

She turned her eyes on him. They were large and blue and framed with _very_ long lashes. Looking at her, the beginnings of breasts indicated she was older than he had originally thought- eleven or twelve, most likely.

"Santa…?" she whispered.

_Santa?_

Her hand found his, her grip unusually strong. "Yes. I'm fine, thank you." Her English was flawless, though strongly accented.

And that was when he noticed the dress she was wearing. "Hey. Hey-"

He heard a voice call out, and the girl jumped, fear suddenly present in her eyes. "I have to go." she whispered, and then she _ran._

"Hey!" Nero called out halfheartedly, but the girl was already gone, vanishing into the crowd.

###

_IT'S MAXIMILLIAN NERO- KILL IT WITH FIRE!_ screamed the revenge-centered part of Pietor's brain.

"Calm down." Furan muttered.

"What?" asked Natalya.

_THEN AT LEAST PANIC! THIS IS A GOOD TIME TO PANIC!_

"_Nothing._" huffed Pietor. "Do you know who that man was?"

"Santa?"

"_Santa?!_" Furan hissed.

"But…" Natalya trailed off. "I saw Anastasia." she said, fidgeting with the dress's collar.

"You did?" Pietor seized her arm. "Where was she?"

"She went into that hotel." Natalya said. "The big one."

"'The big one? What the hell does that mean, 'the big one'?!"

"I don't know!" Natalya hissed.

"Did you at least get a look at the name?"

"I can't read!"

"_What?!_"

"I've never been to school!" she insisted, her face very red. "I mean, I can read words 'free' and 'police' and-"

"Just- just be quiet, okay?" Pietor massaged his temples. "Okay. Right. We go in and check and see if they're just eating dinner… and if not we'll break into the kitchens, steal some uniforms and go undercover." He shuddered as he thought about what that would mean. Anastasia, being dragged along by some man and forced to-

"Pietor!" Natalya hissed as she dragged him to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision with another man.

He squeezed her arm. "Sir. You will address me as _sir._"

"Madame Furan called you 'Petya.'"

"That's because Ana is my little sister."

"Little? Then why is she in charge?"

_If I had a gun for every time I was asked some variation on that question… a lot of people would be dead right now, including little Natalya here…_

**###**

She was, thankfully, in the restaurant. Natalya seemed baffled by all the people in fancy outfits and fingered the knife on the table a little too familiarly. As soon as the waiter had left them to look at the menu, he held out his hand and she gave it to him with a glare.

"What do you want to eat?"

Her scowl deepened. "I just _told you_, I can't _read_."

"They have cake." he said.

"Cake?" Natalya's shoes brushed his leg under the table. Her feet didn't even touch the floor. Was it normal for an eleven-year-old to be this tiny, or was Natalya just especially adorable?

Small. He had said small. Not adorable. Absolutely not.

"You don't know what cake is?"

"Why would I?" Natalya snapped.

"It's like the chocolate I gave you… kind of." Furan sighed. "Just have some, okay?"

"Okay." Natalya said, still staring around like she had never seen anything as amazing as this before. "I'm thirsty."

"Here, take this." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a flask. "Knock yourself out."

He stared around, trying to find his wayward sister. Where the hell-

A hand tightened around his shoulder. "Petya." said a cool voice in his ear. "I think we need to have a _talk._"


	3. Everything You've Ever Done (For) Me

**Sorry this took so long… I just was going back and forth about events within this chapter…**

**And I know Anastasia's OOC, but I haven't read Deadlock yet and she isn't in Aftershock too much, and when she is she's just being all Queen Evil. I dunno, this is how she always turns out when I write her sooo…**

**On a completely unrelated note, I recently discovered a Frozen parody called "Will You Help Me Hide A Body?" that I feel encompasses the Furan family as kids perfectly. And it doesn't hurt that her name is Anna…**

**Oh, and warning for child abuse. **

"Anastasia, how nice to see you here! I was just training Natalya about how to follow someone through a crowd, and since she found Santa I figured we'd stop and get cake-"

"Stop babbling." Anastasia said dismissively. It was then that he noticed that she wasn't angry with him. In fact, she looked… upset. "I said, we need to talk."

"Okay. Let's talk." Pietor said, crossing his arms. "Where is your man toy?"

"Oh, he's in the alley out back." Anastasia said, sinking into the chair next to Natalya.

"What is he doing there?"

"Decomposing, I suppose."

"You killed him?"

"Obviously."

"Can I ask… why?" Pietor ventured cautiously.

"He tried to dump me." Anastasia glared at Natalya. "Me! Can you imagine?"

"No." said Pietor truthfully.

"What did he go and do a stupid thing like that for?" Natalya asked.

"Probably because I'm pregnant." Anastasia said with a shrug.

There was silence.

"Just kidding." Anastasia added.

More silence. A pregnant pause, if you will.

Then Natalya giggled.

Both Furans turned to glare at their young charge, only to watch her fall off the chair onto the floor. Anastasia nudged the girl with her foot. "What did you give her, Pietor?"

"Just vodka."

"You gave vodka to an eleven-year-old girl?"

"Yes, I did."

"What the hell did you do that for?!" Anastasia sounded as though she was just going through the motions of chewing him out, for normality's sake.

"She was thirsty!" Furan snapped, glad to play along.

"She's _eleven_!"

"She's very mature for an eleven-year-old!"

"She still believes in _Santa Claus._"

Furan snicked. "Do I have a story for you..."

###

Natalya yawned, reaching up to poke Pietor. "Can you help me?"

"No." Pietor informed her, pushing the battered Game Boy back down towards Natalya. "I said if you could finish the game _by yourself_ then you could have the day off tomorrow."

Natalya made a face.

"Do that enough, and your face'll freeze that way." Pietor informed her. He noticed that Anastasia was studying him, her eyes narrowed. "What?"

"You see her as me." Anastasia said.

"What does that mean?" Pietor snapped.

"Never mind." Anastasia flipped her hair out of her eyes. "Honestly, you're such an idiot."

"How exactly did you get a boyfriend, again?"

"My wit, charm and winning personality."

"You forgot to include your best friend, Sarcasm."

Furan jumped as he felt Natalya's head lower onto his lap. "What are you doing?"

Natalya blinked up at him. "Why are there three of you…?"

Anastasia sighed and flopped back down onto the creaky hotel bed. "Let's build a castle in Siberia and train some brats, they said. It will be fun, they said."

"Actually, you said that."

"Do I look like I'm in a good mood, Pietor?"

He poked her arm and she hissed at him.

"Was that really necessary?"

"No, because you'll probably be dead by then- _eww, _get your grubby little mits off me"

"Can I have a Christmas present _now_?" Natalya said, giving Anastasia a look Pietor was willing to bet had been perfected through years of convincing pedestrians to give up their change.

"Pietor, she's trying to kill me again…" Anastasia whined.

"I think she's just hugging you." Pietor said cautiously.

"Well, make her stop!"

Furan sighed before seizing Natalya under the armpits and dragging her off his sister. Natalya squealed. "That tickles!" She kicked out, her foot catching in the lace hem of the dress and tearing it free with a horrifyingly loud _riiiiiiiiiip._

Anastasia covered her mouth with her hand. Pietor grabbed Natalya and virtually threw her into the wall. The girl collapsed, whimpering, all traces of her ordinary stoic self taken by the vodka. "Get on your stomach." Pietor ordered.

"I didn't mean to! I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

"_Get on your stomach!_"

Trembling, she followed his orders. He half tore, half unbuckled the belt from his trousers and brought it down on her back hard. Natalya let out a satisfying scream, and he kicked her hard. "Shut up or you'll only make it worse." he hissed.

Natalya stuffed a fist in her mouth and bit down hard to keep herself from crying out as the second lash landed. And the third. And the fourth. And the fifth-

What felt like seconds later, Anastasia grabbed his arm. He whirled on her, for a moment not recognizing her as his most precious possession. "Stop it, she's unconscious and there's blood on the carpet. How are we going to explain that, hmm?"

"She ripped-"

"And you destroyed it!" Anastasia screamed. "Why did you even still have it? I told you to burn all her things-"

"I am the adult-"

"Not any longer, you seem to forget that! I'm _not_ six! Or sixteen! I'm twenty six! I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions-"

"Yes, and you've done a right fine job of it!"

"Shut up! You don't understand anything!"

"Please…"

A small hand reached out and tugged at Pietor's pants. Before he could kick her away, Natalya said "Don't fight, Mummy, Daddy… it's Christmas."

There was a glazed look in her eyes and Pietor had the feeling she wasn't entirely sure what she was saying, but it worked.

"I let her wear the dress because she looks like her. Like you."

Anastasia grunted in response.

"I'm sorry, I'll burn it all when we get back-"

"No." she said, reaching out to touch his arm. "Don't. Maybe we can… look at it."

Pietor stared.

"It's _Christmas._" Anastasia said, crossing her arms.

He smiled. "So it is."

###

**December 25****th****, sometime after one AM, present day- Maximillian Nero's rooms.**

"Yeah, I can see why you just tell people 'it's a long story' when they ask about your first mission." Nero said.

"Or that 'it didn't really go as planned.'" Raven shrugged. "In fact, I don't even know why I'm telling you…"

"Probably because you're considerably drunk right now."

"No, I'm not."

"No, you aren't. Shall we watch another James Bond?"

"Yes, please." Raven stood and wobbled over towards the DVD player.

"You know what, maybe you should sit down?"

"That's a good idea." The assassin plopped down onto the floor. "Ready when you are." she said.

He smiled and hit play. "Merry Christmas, Natalya."

"I hate Christmas." she muttered.

In her pocket, the old Game Boy dug into her leg painfully, so she took it out and set it beside her, giving it a loving pat.

_This is for everything you've ever done to me…_

**So… that turned out a little darker then what I originally intended… this is what happens when you listen to the Madoka Magica soundtrack while writing : )**

**Let me know what you thought!**


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